A chance
by SwedenB.ox
Summary: A chance, just like a love letter. Once you lose the will to write, you can never get it back. However, you can wait, and start over... And this is all that mattered. Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, no matter how much I want it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, my computer messed up and I ended up deleting my first story. Since a sequel is pointless without a prequel, I deleted that too. Lo siento. I am very pissed.**

_A chance._

_A chance, just like a love letter. This is what you had said._

_A chance, just like a love letter._

_Just like a love letter..._

**October 12**

The coffin was beautiful. It was white and shiny, specially cleaned for the beloved residing in the morbid pureness. In the coffin, you lay serenely in it, your clasped cold hands stiff and tired, loosely clutching a tomato sewn with love. Underneath, white scars slept quietly where blood once screamed. A white carnation rested like an innocent child in your soft brown locks, lost their shine, yet still glowing with a slight trace of your ghostly facade. Your face shone tranquility under the soft sunlight stroking your face with long tender arms through the curtain of young tree branches. All together, you were just beautiful. All together, you were a wasted piece of work, abandoned by the hands of your creator, life, a stone beauty residing in loneliness trapped by the colour of purity.

_Ah, loneliness..._

I did not know this man.

_I thought I knew this feeling..._

I do not know this man...!

_So well that I thought I could sense it from afar._

I never knew this man...!

_But how is that that I never knew?_

You were supposed to laugh, dance, play the guitar, say thank you to the Sun, pick tomatoes, so many other things...

_How long? _

You weren't supposed to play with knives and fire and sleep in coffin!

_How long?_

You weren't supposed to draw blood...!

_Antonio, how long have you been lying?_

You weren't supposed to look at me with glazed eyes and a sad smile!

_Antonio... _

Why hadn't I...?

_Ti amo._

For a very long time, I had secretly harboured love for you. I am being straightforward; I am tired of roundabout stuff. I just want it all out. I LOVE you.

I thought I knew all there is to be known about you. I thought you could take my insults. I thought you would always smile. I thought you would always laugh.

I thought I knew you.

In fact, I never knew you.

I was pushing you to the edge with everything I said, in my own useless attempt to conceal my feelings. I thought you realized. I thought you realized I loved you. I thought you realized.

I never knew... What I said, they wore you down, and tore your soul, like small caterpillars on big green leaves. You showed signs. Your smiles were tired. Your laughter was slightly softer. You would often stare out of the window, your eyes a lost pair of gems, searching for an answer to a question you did not ask. Those were sure signs. And I chose, I chose, to ignore them.

It never crossed my mind you were lonely. You were bubbly, you were fun. You spoke of passion, and knew of gratitude. Why would your friends not want you?

I never knew, until the night you decided to brutally slice yourself open.

You had called in that night, sounding like you always was; idiotic, happy. What you said, it disturbed me.

" Hello?"

"Hey, Lovino~"

"What's up you bastard."

" I cut myself and there is red! I think I have tomato in my arms! Do you want to help me get them out? I will share~"

I needed to listen no more. Immediately, I went to your house. What did I expect? No one. However, there were the trails of dark "tomato juice" following eagerly into the tomato farm. What did I do? I followed as well.

I really wished I was earlier; I really wished I didn't see what I saw. I really wished, I had spent more time with you picking tomatoes, as I held you in my arms and felt your dying warmth creep onto my sweaty skin. You were smiling and your eyes were sad yet happy, and the large gash on your torso screamed blood. You was crying and chuckling childishly at the same time. I started to cry as well. Damn, did I want to keep it in!

" Look, Lovi, the tomatoes are here." You smiled through your facade and said. " Pity they aren't meant for me..." Yes, indeed they weren't. They were meant to be sold to provide an income for your large family scattered in many parts of Spain.

I propped you against my torso and watched the tomatoes with you. They were red and silent and watching, glowing soft pink in the serene moonlight. I couldn't stop crying. You couldn't stop smiling. Even when your eyes grew dry, your smile remained.

Somehow, as I gently brushed your eyes close, I knew, somehow, you were breaking your facade.

Berwald carried the coffin and buried his handiwork ,specially made with care to house my love, under your favourite tree, which overlooked your tomato farm.

" May the tomatoes watch you," I breathed, as I watched Berwald's massive back clad in thick blue bend and rise when he buried you, " and may they belong to you."

_Once upon a time, I had stood under that tree, clutching a love letter I wrote especially for you. You were happily working on your farm, running about watering your beloved tomato plants. I wanted to give that letter to you... Throw it down as a paper airplane, maybe? I have no courage to. I really wanted to give... yet, I was afraid... of what? Rejection? Embarrassment? Shyness? I really don't know._

_The wind picked up its pace, and wrenched the letter from my grasp. I expected it to carry the letter down to the fields, but it swept the letter away in the other direction. I made a dart and jumped, my hand barely touching the letter. I could only watch as the letter, my chance, flitted gracefully away from my sight. _

_My hard work... _

_My love letter..._

_My chance..._

_Gone._

As I look again at the tomatoes, I noticed that they were plump and red and healthy, singing their gratitude for your love and care.

Like you, they felt that they had only you to rely on, just like how you felt that they were the only things that loved and repaid you.

I turned, and let lost myself to the smell of tomato sauce and tears on Berwald's uniform.

And as I returned home, the beeping alarm clock showed an all familiar date that neither you nor I forgot.

Happy Birthday, I wished quietly to the red tomatoes sitting in the basket you weaved. Happy October 12.

A year has passed now. Yet, I haven't let go of you. I regretted every insult I spat at you, despite that being my way of declaring love. Once again, I have come to visit you under this great tree. I can see that the tomatoes are well cared for, because I have been taking care of them. Have they been good? Have they kept you happy? Have they gave you company?

In my hand is now a love letter. The wind hasn't come yet. So I sit down and wait. I waited till the wind came. Then I let go.

The love letter is now floating away to paradise. I hope it reaches you, yet I hope it doesn't reach you, because I don't deserve you. As I watch the letter float away, I let a tear fall.

Dear Antonio, are you happy up there with your tomatoes? Have you gotten the tomatoes out of your arms yet?

Are they yours yet?

_A chance._

_A chance, just like a love letter. This is what you had said._

_A chance, just like a love letter._

_Just like a love letter..._

_I have wasted my first love letter, my first chance._

_You could have been alive._

_I regret it._

_And as I release the paper plane, I will learn to let go, and smile at the green grass and great tree and the tomatoes..._

_And, I will also learn to let go, and move on in life, always remembering to smile at your grave, and be grateful to the Sun with you._

_Antonio, my love, ti amo._


	2. Chapter 2

_A chance._

_A chance, just like a love letter. This is what I had said._

_A chance, just like a love letter._

_Just like a love letter..._

The moment I saw you, I knew I would love you one day. You were different; I thought you were.

You weren't, actually. You were the same as those who scorn me. You think I didn't know? my obliviousness...

It's a facade.

I never knew either, until sister told me. She screamed in my ear that no one liked me. That being Portuguese, she couldn't stand the sight of me, a poor Spanish farmer, working hard to provide for the large family I couldn't keep together. That being Portuguese, she hated Spaniards, especially me, for being happy as though they did nothing to her country.

She left the house. The next day, she brought along her friends, a sulky pothead from the Netherlands, a masked Turk, and some perverted French guy and a self proclaimed "Prussian", and destroyed my tomato farm.

I didn't think Francis and Gilbert would betray me. But they did. Gilbert came back and called me a loser. Francis fought with me the next day. And Hermana just watched, and laughed, as I got battered by that frog. He wasn't Francis; where were the Bad Touch Trio days?

Now that I think of it, although they laughed with me, there weren't signs that they were actually friends. I did not have anyone's number. I shared no good news. I shared no good news. No one came to my house. The only friends I had...

Are no longer there.

...

Was I alone?

Friendless?

Even with you... The one I loved, but who did not return my love?

I know you hate me... For being happy, stupid, but you didn't need to insult me.

I have a breaking point.

You are pushing me there. Especially since my heart cries out for you.

I do not get it... After I realized I was alone, I began to notice things. I began to feel tired, and I noticed that some people glared at me. I noticed that some people sent me pitying glances. I do not need pity. Lars also shot warning glances to Bella when she tried to get close to me. Reality... it makes you notice things... Doesn't it, my lovely tomato? He even made me tell her to stop coming to my house. I hated to see her cry... It broke my heart. I never made people cry.

Now, I have only my tomatoes as family. The red fruit were my grandchildren, the plants were my children, and I am their father. Even though they could not call me papa... I am glad, they appreciated my presence, and bore me fruit. I once kissed my tomato plant. That was my first and only kiss.

I showed some signs. Did you see them, or were you just plain ignoring them? Day by day, I wait for the pair of arms that would circle me and ask me what's wrong. They never come. Instead, I listen to your endless insults, which I started to take seriously. Where are the days when I would laugh it off? Gone are the days when I would never understand their meaning. Where are my smiles? My laughter? Why are they replaced with strained, tired tugs at the mouth, and soft choked noises scratching my throat? Where have they gone? Can you please return them? And why... why is there water in my eyes? Why? Why? Why, my Lovino?

I knew I had to write you a love letter. But I never did.

Because a love letter is a chance, isn't it?

... And I knew...

... I would never get that chance...

Lovino...

... Would you please be a tomato, and accept me for who I am before I scream into the night sky?

I am breaking apart... Notice soon, por favor, notice soon...

My Lovino,

Te Amo.

I think I am becoming masochistic lately. I went and burnt myself one day, and somehow it felt good. The pain was good. Is this good, or bad? I am unsure.

Also... there are tomatoes in my arms! They cared for me, so they snuck in there so that my blood doesn't flow. I felt glad, but I couldn't get them out. I can't harm my precious children! When they left me to be adopted by other richer people, I must keep them plump and fed and healthy! So I called you to help.

" Hello?"

"Hey, Lovino~"

"What's up you bastard."

" I cut myself and there is red! I think I have tomato in my arms! Do you want to help me get them out? I will share~"

You did not answer after that. And you called me a bastard. I knew it... I always knew it! I knew it... There was no one in the world that could actually love me! My hope... My hope! You just crushed it in a matter of seconds...! And I thought, you were actually concealing your feelings... I was naive, I was wrong. I was so wrong.

I laughed. I laughed so much, it hurt. But I felt free. I looked in the mirror, and I could see insanity in my eyes. I am insane. And it was all you all. You caused me to become like that. I don't want this... I don't want, I don't want...! Mama, Papa, save me...

I punched the mirror. I did not bother to pick out the shards of glass. I grabbed a knife, and went out into my tomato fields. My darlings are soundly sleeping. Good, because I don't want them to see their Papa insane.

I sat down in a spot I loved, and drove the knife into the middle of my chest. I screamed. God knows how loud I screamed. I cut deeper, and oh! Are there tomatoes there also? I proceeded to split my torso open. I screamed all the way. Lovino, Lars, Bella, Francis, Gilbert, Hermana, do you hear my pained cry for help now? Do you? Finally, I collapsed on the ground, tired from the screaming, the red... what? What was it called again? Was it called juice? Water? I... I... I don't remember...!

After eternity, someone came. How did I survive that long? And, my tomato... What was your name again? My tomato, was it you who came? Was it you who held me in my arms, and cried for me? No, it must not be, you have never loved a worthless piece of shit like me. Were those tears I felt? Was it your voice? I can't hear, I can't feel... But I could hope. I could hope it was you... Can whoever was there carrying me, make my final moments happier? Could he be my love, if only for a while?

" Look, Lovi, the tomatoes are here," I wheezed through blurry eyes wet with salty water," pity they aren't meant for me." They were all gonna leave someday, I realized... Even the tomatoes... why...

I felt thin arms prop me up, and I could see swirling patches of red blurring in and out. They were beautiful, glowing a soft pink in some strange light. You weren't there to see it. You don't need to, anyway... You were never there for me.

I smiled. That smile was genuine. It was no facade. It was a real smile, with no traces of a messed up mind. The person never stopped crying. Why? Did he care? Or were they tears of happiness? It didn't matter... I am going to a place where there would be so many tomatoes waiting for me...! I am going to a place where I could laugh and smile, play and dance with the angels clad in white! I can see one. She has the most beautiful wings ever, and her hand felt so soft and nice... She cares. She is beckoning me to go to her, ah, my love, you were so late... Here was someone who truly cared! I felt it in my bones. She is promising me, under her white white feathers, that I was able to be loved and love. I am so happy. Ah, my love... It's turning black... My vision, why is it being blotted out? Those creeping black spots advancing so quickly, go away! Go away! Why? Why do you keep me from seeing the angel?

My body is heavy. I can't move... My smile of happiness quickly turns into one of defeat. My love, what was your name again? ... I'm sorry, but I must go. Can I catch it later? Here's my number, and Adios!

...

Goodbye, my little seed of love, my tomato, which never grew into a tomato...

Goodbye, my friends, Francis and Gilbert and Bella, who were never there...

Goodbye, all who hated and pitied me, a piece of shit, a waste of space...

Goodbye, my dear Hermana, who hated me and told me the truth...

And finally...

Goodbye, the world whose beauty was not seen by me, the Sun who has given up on me, and the love letters which have yet to, and never, come.

Good night... I am so tired... I will sleep now.

_A chance._

_A chance, just like a love letter. This is what I had said._

_A chance, just like a love letter._

_Just like a love letter..._

_If you lose the will to write, you can never get it back._

_But you can wait, and start over..._

_And this is all that mattered._

_And I lost mine._

_And I never intend to wait and start over._

_..._

_Was there a point in doing that?_

_Why do I have to wait..._

_**For the reply that will never come...?**_


End file.
